


My Plus One

by buskids_lovebot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, number neighbours au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 17:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20232019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buskids_lovebot/pseuds/buskids_lovebot
Summary: Daisy encourages Jemma to text the number above her, or what she calls her 'number neighbour'. What began as a harmless joke soon spirals into something more, when Jemma's number neighbour introduces himself as Fitz...





	My Plus One

“Come on! You gotta do it,”

“No. It’s stupid and I’m not doing it!”

Daisy Johnson and Jemma Simmons were sitting in their apartment’s living room. The warm light of the lamp in the corner bounced off the walls, creating shadows of anything meeting its way. The two best friends were having a self-proclaimed “Ladies’ Night”, which involved a box of pizza, wine and watching some Netflix show Daisy wanted Jemma to watch.

“Just do it,” Daisy groaned. She was in an oversized tee with the Queen band members splashed on the front, and she wasn’t wearing any pants. “There’s no harm in doing it! It’s just texting the number below and above you. I’m not asking you to murder someone for me,”

“You haven’t asked me to murder anyone for you _ yet _,” Jemma replied. She was in a black tank top and shorts, her messy hair cascading down her shoulders.

  
“Fair point,” Daisy pouted and shrugged slightly. “But you have to try it,”

“Have you tried it?”

“Yup,”

“And how did it turn out?”

“Well,” Daisy leaned forward, her chin balanced on her right fist. She was sitting on the couch cross-legged, her right elbow on her thigh.

“The number above me is a cute chick. Her name’s Piper. We hit off well. Honestly, I think I have a little crush on her. If I wasn’t dating Lincoln, I would totally be into her. But you didn’t hear it from me,”

Jemma nodded wistfully. When she didn’t speak, Daisy took it as a cue to continue.

“The number below me hasn’t replied. The number either doesn’t exist or they’re spooked. Whichever it is, I don’t really care.” Daisy finished with a nonchalant shrug.

“I’m only slightly convinced to do it now,” Jemma replied. She didn’t understand why Daisy was so insistent on wanting her to do it.

“Look. Number one: it’s harmless. Number two: it might help you gain another friend! Your friendship circle isn’t exactly the best looking thing now, Jems,” Daisy argued.

Jemma rolled her eyes. Daisy and she have vastly different personalities and ways of thinking. Daisy’s the life of the party, not afraid to get absolutely drunk and wasted. Jemma’s the quiet and reserved one; the friend who’s assigned to drive her drunk friends home after a wild night out. They have their own way of logical thinking and reasoning, once in a while, they clash over how to get things done. It still boggled her how they’re still best friends who have been sharing an apartment for three years.

“Just try texting the number above you. Then we’ll see how it goes, okay?”

“Fine,” Jemma grunted as she whipped out her phone and unlocked it. There’s no way to argue over Daisy. Besides, Daisy was right. There’s no harm in trying it. It was not like her life would be changed forever just because she decided to text some random stranger who had a number close to hers.

She thought about who might be at the other end of the line. A celebrity? Some innocent person who’s also thinking about texting their number neighbour, or some creepy weirdo? She opened her messages, keyed in her phone number but added one to the last digit. Her keyboard clicked as she thought about what to send to make it less awkward. In the end, she settled with:

“Hi! I’m your number neighbour, as in my number is one below yours? It’s fine if you’re creeped out by this and not reply, though. I’m just trying this for fun :-)” 

She passed her phone to Daisy after she hit send. Daisy scanned her message, her frown becoming more and more apparent.

“You say here you’re trying this for fun, but the overall tone of this message makes it sound like you’re made to send this because you’re held at gunpoint,” Daisy noted playfully.

“I already sent it. What do you want me to do?” Jemma countered. Her texting style had always been described as formal or as what Daisy described, “depressing to look at, even more depressing knowing you have to reply to her and she will text you back with another round of messages”.

“Now we wait,” Daisy set the phone down on the sofa and reached for another slice of pizza. Jemma’s attention returned to the show they were watching, and soon the text was at the back of her mind.

-

The reply came the next morning. 

Jemma, in her sleepy slumber, rolled over to snooze her alarm. In a hazy blur, she saw a notification pop up when she unlocked her phone. The message was from an unsaved number. A jolt of electricity ran through Jemma and she was immediately awake. She unplugged her phone from the charger and propped herself up with her left elbow. The two messages read:

“Hi! I’ve seen this number buddy thing going around. Never thought I would get any messages from mine.” 

And then, “ Nice to know you’re my number buddy. My name’s Fitz :)” 

A small wave of panic rose in Jemma’s stomach. She never expected a reply. Now she had to keep the conversation going. She couldn’t ask Daisy, because she barred Jemma from disturbing her sleep (“unless this place in on fire”) and she couldn’t not reply to him either; she stupidly opened her messages to read it, meaning that this Fitz person could tell whether she read it or not. She searched her brain for a reply. In the end, she settled with:

“I’m Jemma. Nice to meet you! What do you work as?” 

Admittedly, it was bland asking for Fitz’s occupation. But it was the best thing Jemma’s 7 am brain could conjure up, so she went with it. Now that her body was awake, she found it hard to fall back asleep. She got out of bed and pulled apart her curtains, letting the morning sun filter in. It was a Monday morning and she needed to be at work by 9. On normal mornings she would be up at 8. But thanks to that message, she was up way too early. She sauntered around her room, making her bed, showering, getting ready for work. Once in awhile, she checked her notifications, seeing if Fitz replied. All morning all she thought about was her number neighbour._ Fitz._ _What kind of name was that? It’s a guy’s name right? How old is this Fitz? How does he look like? What are his hobbies? What kind of music does he like? Okay, Jemma you gotta stop. Think of something else._

By the time Jemma was preparing breakfast, Daisy woke up. She, too, shuffled out of her room in her work attire. It was semi-formal, a button-up tucked into black jeans. When you work for Google as a software engineer, your skills matter more than what you wear.

“Good morning,” Daisy muttered as she set her bag down on the kitchen island, and sipped the coffee Jemma made. 

“Good morning to you,” Jemma replied in jest.

“You sound too cheery for a Monday morning. What’s up?” Daisy looked at Jemma from behind her cup with a raised eyebrow.

“My number neighbour texted me back,”

That caught Daisy’s attention.

“Ooh. So what did they say?” Daisy enquired with a smile.

“That person’s name is Fitz. I think he’s a guy,” Jemma said as she put their breakfast on the kitchen island. Some generic eggs and bacon.

“Interesting. Did you reply with anything?”

“I asked what his job is,” Jemma replied

Daisy almost choked on her bacon piece. “That’s just weird. That’s not how you start a conversation,”

“I already sent it. There’s nothing you can do,” Jemma said indifferently as she munched on her breakfast.

“You know what, Simmons? We should set a rule where you aren’t allowed to send anything unless I vet it,” Daisy declared as she finished her breakfast. Right at the same time, Jemma’s phone pinged. They both shared a look as Jemma reached for her phone. A reply from Fitz.

“I work biotech at King’s Pharmaceuticals. I come up with new medical equipment, improve on the old ones. How about you?” 

“Oh my god,” Jemma eyes widened as she put a hand to cover her mouth.

“Talk to me, Jemmie. What did he say?” Daisy leaned forward on the island, trying to get a good look of the phone screen.

“He works at King’s,” Jemma said excitedly. “That’s my company’s rival,”

Daisy laughed in surprise. “You guys are rivals now. Stop texting one another. It’s illegal,”

“Oh my gosh, I work at Clarkston’s as a biochemist. I suppose we’re rivals now.” Jemma sent back, her fingers typing away furiously.

When Daisy heard the swoop of the send button, her smile turned into a frown.

“What did I just say? No sending messages unless I vet them!”

“Sorry not sorry,” Jemma responded cheekily as she set down her phone.

“You’ve barely known this Fitz for a day and you pick him over me. Ugh, the power of a man. My best friend had changed! I suppose you don’t need me. Goodbye for now, my friend,” Daisy replied dramatically as she picked up her bag and headed for the door. 

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jemma said with a chuckle as she cleared up the plates and cups.

“I said: Goodbye, stranger!” And with a jingle of keys and a slam of the door, Daisy was out of the apartment. The apartment was silent apart from the gushing of water as Jemma washed the plates. She needed to head out for work soon. She quickly wiped the island, grabbed her bag and headed out to work. Never once did her mind drifted away from her number neighbour.

-

Throughout the day, Jemma anticipated texts from Fitz. She learnt a lot: he was 30, just like her. He was Scottish. He stayed in the same state as Jemma, to her surprise. Although he held a stable job at King’s, he always felt like he was missing something in his job. He dabbled with electronics and technology, a tibit Jemma made a mental note to tell Daisy about. In return, Jemma shared a lot about herself too. She was happy with her job, had a best friend who worked for Google and can definitely ask if there were any positions there that were open that he might be interested in. By the end of the day, Jemma and Fitz were proper friends, despite them not even knowing how the other looked like.

With them exchanging texts, the day flew by fast. Before she knew it, she was opening the door to her apartment, her eyes fixated on their conversation on her phone. When she opened the door, the smell of fresh asparagus wafted to her nose. Daisy was busy preparing dinner for them both. 

“Hello there, stranger. How is your conversation with your number neighbour going?” Daisy greeted coldly when Jemma walked past the kitchen.

“It’s going well,” Jemma said as she set her bag down on the couch. “I think we’re friends now,”

“Friends?!” Daisy exclaimed in pretentious shock. She wielded the frying spatula like a wand and pointed it at Jemma. “He’s one step closer to dethroning my status as your best friend. You must not let it happen,”

Jemma laughed. “It’s not going to happen. I promise,” Her phone lit up with a notification again.

“I feel like we should meet for dinner someday.” 

Jemma replied with zest. “Definitely. But now I have a project that I’m super busy with. Perhaps after I’m done?? I’ll only be done in 4 weeks though.”

An immediate reply: “Understandable. Let’s see if our friendship lasts that long. If it does, then we shall go out for dinner. Talk to each other in real life for once.” 

Jemma chuckled. She quickly replied, “Good. Talk to you later, I’m having dinner,” and set her phone aside. At the same time, Daisy was setting up their dinner, placing the dishes on the island. 

“So,” Daisy settled beside Jemma on the seat and began digging into her dinner. “Tell me what you’ve learned about this guy. Tell me _ everything _,”

“I thought we weren’t friends anymore,” Jemma commented.

“It doesn’t stop me from being 200% invested in this story. Now spill. I promised Lincoln I would tell him the entire story at work tomorrow,”

“So um,” Jemma began. She stared at her hands and she stretched them on the counter. “Can you check if there are any positions open at your workplace? Fitz really likes technology…”

-

The next month flew over fast. Not a day went by where Jemma and Fitz wouldn’t talk at least once. Three weeks into their friendship, texts transitioned to texts and Facetiming. If Jemma really needed help with her project, she would video call Fitz and they would solve it together. Talking was faster than typing, after all. When Jemma first Facetimed Fitz, all she saw was a pixelated, lagging blur. She could barely make out his face, and she didn’t think Fitz could make out hers either. While waiting for the connection to figure itself out, they started talking. Jemma was taken back by Fitz’s Scottish accent. She found herself oddly attracted to it.

“Hey,” Was the first thing he said when the call connected.

“Hi,” Jemma replied, maybe too enthusiastically. Fitz was probably sitting in his room; his background was plastered with coloured blobs - presumably posters. He had his phone propped against something, and in front of him was paper documents strewn everywhere.

“You said you needed help with your project?” Fitz asked as he rummaged through a bag beside him.

“Yea… I see you’re doing some work on your side too?” Jemma said as she tapped her pen on the tabletop. The connection was starting to clear up and she could see him more clearly. Fitz had sent some photos of him to her before, but it was clear to her that those photos weren’t exactly up to date. This Fitz had messy curls, and some light scruff, as compared to the photos she had of him: where he was clean-shaven and the curly hair was less apparent. At the same time, Fitz finished rummaging through his bag, and slapped even more paper documents onto his table. He looked directly into the camera - at Jemma- and she found herself momentarily starstruck. The light in his room reflected off his eyes in such a way that his eyes lit up. He smirked at Jemma, unconsciously playing with his fingers.

“My last project for King’s” Fitz exhaled deeply and leaned backwards. He made a grand gesture to his documents. “I can’t wait to be done with this pain in the arse. Once again, help me thank your friend for the hook-up,”

“I will,” Jemma replied. Daisy couldn’t find a position open at her workplace, but she did find an opening at a company that worked for Google. Fitz would be joining the company in a few weeks after he was done with his final project. He hadn’t stopped expressing his enthusiasm since he found out about the job offer. Jemma found it a joy to watch- he always bounced up and down whenever it was mentioned. It was like watching an excited child explaining to his parents why he thought he deserved a puppy. Suddenly remembering the purpose of the call, she picked up the document in front of her - the matter she wanted to consult Fitz on. He was staring intently at her as well, waiting for her to pose her question.

“Ay, Fitz, who are you talking to?” A distant voice echoed from the background on Fitz’s side of the phone call. Jemma’s ears perked at that unfamiliar voice. Come to think of it, that might be Hunter, Fitz’s best friend.

Hunter popped into the frame momentarily.

“‘Ello,” Hunter chirped. He was slouching down to get a better view of Fitz’s screen. He squinted at his screen for a few seconds, before turning to Fitz, seemingly in disbelief.

“Is this the girl you keep talking about? You guys doing video calls now?”

Jemma’s cheeks flushed, and she was quite certain Fitz's cheeks did too.

“Y-yea. Yea.” Fitz stuttered. He clearly didn’t expect that. He ran a hand through his messy curls and turned his gaze from the screen for a few seconds. “Jemma, meet Hunter. Hunter, Jemma,”

“Hi,” Jemma awkwardly half raised her forearm to greet him.

Hunter smiled at Jemma, then back at Fitz. “You do know, Jemma, he has been talking about you _ for quite a bit _ lately,” Hunter’s pitch went higher for those last few words. He smiled suggestively at the camera.

“Uh- I-” Fitz’s eyes darted from him to Jemma nervously. “Get out, you wanker. I have work to do,” He swatted Hunter on the shoulder.

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it. Have fun!” Hunter clicked his tongue and winked at Fitz. Fitz gave him the finger and shooed him away. A few seconds later, a door clicked.

“Sorry about that,” Fitz turned his attention back to the video call. “He can be very embarrassing sometimes,”

“It’s fine,” Jemma replied, hoping the flush in her cheeks have died down. “I’ve been friends with Daisy for years,”

Fitz laughed lightly in response. Seemingly remembering the purpose of the call, he sat back straight and cleared his throat.

“Okay, let’s get down to business. What do you want me to help you with?”

-

Before she knew it, Jemma was done with her project. After submitting it, she immediately reached for her phone and texted Fitz.

“Done with project. Dinner this Saturday to celebrate? You choose the venue,” 

A reply 5 minutes later. “Congrats! Saturday 8 pm at the Italian restaurant down 5th avenue? I heard their food’s good.” 

“Deal. See you!” 

Jemma spent the rest of the week anticipating her dinner with Fitz. She fussed over many things: what should she wear? What if they run out of things to talk about? What if it gets awkward?

Jemma voiced her insecurities about their upcoming dinner date to an increasingly unimpressed Daisy. It became a fixture of their dinner for a week.

“Stop worrying, Jem. It’ll go well,” Daisy reassured her every day.

“I am physically unable to stop worrying, you can’t stop me from being worried! I think being anxious is my natural state now,” Jemma would always reply.

On the evening of the much-anticipated dinner date, Jemma found herself ruffling through her wardrobe. She came to realise how drab and bland her taste in clothes were. She threw on her formal event dress, the only dress she owned and the article of clothing she always wore to formal events. She took a good look at herself in the mirror. Nope, too formal. She changed into a blouse and a form-fitting pair of jeans and looked into the mirror again. Did it look too relaxed? What if she wore this and Fitz thought she wasn’t putting in any effort? That would definitely leave a bad impression. Finally, she settled on a button-up and a flowy dress she borrowed from Daisy. She combed through her hair, put on her favourite pair of earrings and some light makeup, and out of the apartment she went.

Jemma arrived outside the restaurant 15 minutes early. She sat on a bench nearby and took out her phone to text Fitz.

“Already here.” 

A reply 3 minutes later. “Damn, you’re early. I might be 5 minutes late. You can go into the restaurant first. Sorry :(“ 

“It’s alright! I’ll just wait here and we can go in together.” 

“Ok, I’ll try to hurry up.” 

After Jemma read the message, she clicked her phone off and took in her surroundings. Cars zoomed by in the chilly weather. People hurried past here, either in groups or in solitude. The lamppost beside the bench illuminated its immediate radius, casting her in a soft glow of light. After a few minutes, Jemma’s phone pinged again. This time, it was a message from Daisy.

“Have fun tonight. If you need help, call me.”  Daisy texted. A slew of different emojis followed her message. A telephone emoji, all the heart emojis, and a smiley emoji.

“Got it.  ” Jemma replied quickly. The chilly wind was getting to her and she shivered. Why didn’t she bring a coat?

After a while, another message.  “Also, let me know if you’re bringing him back to our apartment. I don’t want to be there when you guys do steamy things.”  Followed by an emoji sticking its tongue out, two water droplets… and a peach? What was the peach for?

“We’re not doing any of that.” Jemma rolled her eyes and replied.

“Just to be safe though. But if he’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll swoop in like an eagle.” 

“Got it, Ms Annoying. See you later tonight.” 

“See you. Can’t wait to hear stories.”  And an emoji blowing a kiss.

Jemma set her phone down on her lap and placed her hands under her thighs to keep them warm. She started tapping her feet, an unconscious tic she developed when she had to wait for something. She glanced around and hoped to see a familiar face. And there he was. Fitz padded down the path, his hands in a beige coat. He was looking around, probably looking for Jemma too. Jemma raised her hand and waved at him. It was as if a light bulb flickered on in Fitz’s eyes; he lit up when he saw Jemma. He half brisk walked, half jogged towards Jemma as she stood up from the bench. The lamppost light illuminated features Jemma never noticed before in their video calls. How sharp his facial features were, and boy were those eyes a beautiful blue…

“Hey!” Fitz greeted Jemma with a wide smile. “Sorry for being late,”

“N-no, it’s fine! Let’s go in. I’m getting cold,” Jemma snapped out of her stupor and managed to say. _ Get a grip, Jemma. _

They headed towards the restaurant together in comfortable silence. Jemma noticed how their footsteps were in sync- left, right, left. 

They entered the noisy restaurant- glassware clinked, dozens of conversations going off at once, and chefs shouting out orders. The waiter guided them to a table beside a window. Fitz made the effort of pulling out the chair for Jemma to sit on, before settling into the opposite seat. Their table was illuminated by two candles and a small vase with a singular rose was placed on one side of the table. The waiter handed them the menu and walked away.

Jemma flipped through the menu, despite knowing what she was going to eat. She flipped to the drinks section - the only part of her meal she had yet to decide on, and sorted through the options. She went for some kind of cherry cocktail - recommended by the chef, according to the menu.

“So,” Jemma began, attempting to make small talk. “How’s your project going?”

“It’s still a pain in the arse, but I can manage,” Fitz replied curtly, his eyes still fixated on the menu.

Jemma began to panic. Was this already turning sour? Or was she overthinking it?

Fitz, seemingly reading Jemma’s mind, put down his menu and looked straight at Jemma. “I’m sorry if I’m coming off as rude. I just… don’t really know my way around words,”

“No, no. It’s fine! I would say the same as well. I’m not good with words,” Jemma blurted in response. Her jaw slacked slightly from tension. One more thing to add to the list of things they had in common: lousy with words.

Soon, Fitz gestured for the waiter to come over. He let Jemma read out her order first: tomato pasta with linguine and a “fizzy cherry bomb cocktail”. For Fitz, he ordered some pizza with beer.

As they waited for their food to arrive, they carried on their conversation.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in real life. Finally, we aren’t reduced to seeing one another through a low quality video call,” Fitz began. He was leaning against his chair comfortably. He took out his coat to hang it on his chair, revealing what he was wearing underneath the coat: a dark blue long sleeved button- up that made his blue eyes pop , and iron- pressed pants.

“I’m glad to meet you too. I guess you’re my first ‘Internet friend’. It’s fun,” Jemma laced her fingers together and leaned forward on the table.

“And to think our parents told us not to talk to strangers,” 

Jemma laughed. A genuine, hearty laugh.

“So, have you tendered your resignation?”

“Yup,”

“When are you gonna start at the new place?’

“Start of next month. I can’t wait. I’m gonna throw a huge party to celebrate. Though the party would only have me and my three friends, probably,”

Jemma laughed some more. What a charmer Fitz was.

Fitz seemed to ease into Jemma’s presence. He smirked, his left cheek lifting higher than his right. His eyes glimmered as the candle flames gently illuminated his face. He tapped his fingers rapidly against the table as he leaned against his chair.

“So,” Fitz continued. “Where’s your friend?”

“On a date night with her boyfriend. His name’s Lincoln. They’ve been at it for 5 years now, so I’m expecting nuptials soon,”

“Ah,” Fitz nodded in understanding. “Is it rude to ask for an invitation now?”

“I’ll bring you as my plus one then,” Jemma suggested.

“Deal,”

“How’s Hunter?”

Fitz paused for a few seconds to come up with an answer. He cocked his head slightly and bit his lip. “He’s doing aight. Been dating this chick named Bobbi for a year now. It’s always on and off; I don’t even know what status they’re in right now,”

“Ah,” Jemma nodded as she digested the information. “What do you think about her?”

“Smart and attractive. I can see why Hunter’s into her. Though she’s not my type,” Fitz remarked.

_ Then what was your type? _ Was the first question that popped into Jemma’s head. She smacked herself internally for coming up with such a stupid question. _ Why do you even want to know who was his type? _

“Interesting,” Jemma replied, ignoring the question that was popping up in her brain like a persistent error page. She was racking her brain for another question to ask.

“Thoughts on global warming?” 

After a few minutes, the food finally arrived. They both dug into their piping hot meals, and their conversation came to a temporary halt.

“Have you ever dated anyone?” Fitz suddenly asked out of the blue.

Jemma nearly choked on her drink. She took a giant gulp and composed herself.

“Yea, men and women, but all didn’t last very long,” Jemma said slowly. She tried to not make herself sound pitiful.

Fitz nodded as he munched on his food. Jemma noticed how mechanical his jaw was, chewing up and down rhythmically in a small circle.

“Me too. I had flings, one- night stands. But nothing lasted long,” Fitz said after he swallowed his food.

“I guess both of us don’t have a lot of luck in this department?” Jemma asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yea,” Fitz said with a chuckle. “You can say that,”

The dinner continued on without a fuss. It very much exceeded Jemma’s expectations: there was never a dull moment, and never once did they run out of things to talk about. The evening was filled with laughter, anecdotes and finding out more about the other person. Before Jemma knew it, they were done with their dinner.

“Allow me to foot the bill,” Jemma said. Her brain started reaching for the responses she thought of from the time she imagined variations of this scenario in her head.

“You can’t do that, this is the man’s job,” Fitz said with a small smile. He signalled the waiter, beckoning him to bring the bill to him.

Jemma’s brain was racing to find a suitable reaction. Daisy’s words echoed in her head. “_ Just let him pay, okay? You can pay the bill for the next date. Take turns or something,” _

“Alright. But if there’s a next dinner, I’m footing that one,” Jemma responded as she watched Fitz whip out his credit card and hand it to the waiter. He beckoned Fitz to the cashier, and Fitz swooped up his coat from the chair before following the waiter. Jemma got up after him, and made a beeline to the exit and waited for him there.

After a minute or two, Fitz joined her. They stepped out of the restaurant together, and a gust of cold wind slapped Jemma the moment she got out. She shivered in response- the wind was even colder than when she was waiting for Fitz.

“Want my coat?” Fitz asked. Before he even got a response, he threw his coat over Jemma’s shoulders. Jemma’s cheeks began to flush- she wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold or this.

“But we’re gonna go separate ways, you don’t have to do it,” The words tumbled out of Jemma’s mouth as she gripped the collar of the coat. _ Actually yes, walk with me. Because I think I’m going to become a popsicle soon if you don’t give me your coat. _

“You know what, let me walk you home then. It’s quite dark out,” Fitz proposed. 

“I…” Jemma was at a loss of words. In her paranoia (or excitement), she did conjure this scenario in her head: _ what if Fitz decided to send you back? _And in said scenario, she didn’t refuse the offer. So that was what she did. Her cheeks were becoming redder by the second, but luckily the lack of light on the street covered it up. She continued walking, a cue to Fitz that she accepted his offer. He followed up in her footsteps, and soon they were syncing footsteps again.

Home was one bus ride away, and their conversation never died down once on the way home. They found more things to talk about: from discussing the next dinner date, to suddenly talking about global warming and melting ice caps again. Jemma was at ease around Fitz. It very much felt like she was talking to an old friend. Soon, they reached the foot of Jemma’s apartment block. She hastily took off Fitz’s coat and gave it back to him.

“Thank you for tonight, Jemma,” Fitz said as he took his coat from Jemma.

“Thank you too. Text me when you reach home, alright?” Jemma responded. She was bummed that the night had ended so quickly. She was already looking forward to their next dinner.

“I’ll let you know then. Goodnight, Jemma,” Fitz said with a small laugh. He folded the coat and placed it on his left arm, and began walking in the direction they came from.

“Goodnight, Fitz,” Jemma said in return. She quickly went up the steps to her apartment, unlocked the door and entered before the cold got to her.

-

She put her keys and handbag on the kitchen island and went to take a warm shower. When she came back, she found a new message notification on her phone.

“Just reached home. Thank you for that wonderful night, Ms Simmons. I thoroughly enjoyed it.” 

“Me too. Back to you.” 

“Maybe we should do on a dinner like this another day?” 

“Absolutely. It’ll be a pleasure.” 

Just at the same time, the door clicked and in came Daisy and Lincoln. Lincoln walked in first and Daisy shut the door.

“Hey there,” Lincoln nodded once in Jemma’s direction and smiled. He placed a bag on the island. And settled on the sofa. Daisy raced in from behind, and plopped beside Lincoln.

“So tell me, how was the date?” Daisy cut to the chase and asked. 

“It went great,” Jemma replied with a hearty smile. Her heart glowed thinking about the time she spent with Fitz.

“Elaborate,” Daisy pressed on.

“We had dinner at an Italian restaurant. We had a good time talking. It went a lot better than I anticipated and we’re thinking about doing it again some time,” Jemma settled in the single-seat couch next to the sofa Daisy and Lincoln were sitting on. 

Daisy and Lincoln shared a look, an unspoken spark in their eyes. Jemma didn’t get what kind of silent messages they were passing to each other.

“You know, Lincoln and I saw you guys at the restaurant,” Daisy began slowly.

“Were you guys following me?” Jemma asked, shocked. How did she not notice Daisy and Lincoln there?

“No. We just happen to grab dinner there, I mean it. And we both think that he’s a handsome guy and from what we can tell, pretty charming too. He suits you,” Lincoln cocked his head and smiled suggestively.

“Are you saying we should date?” Jemma questioned. Her cheeks were starting to heat umpteenth time for the day.

“I don’t know if you noticed this, my little Jem,” Daisy shifted to face Jemma and reached over to grab her hands tight. “In all the fifteen minutes we were there waiting for our takeaway, we noticed you didn’t stop smiling _ once _ . You were constantly smiling, if not laughing. Have you not noticed that your cheeks hurt? Because mine do just by watching you smile that wide. You are clearly head over heels for him, my friend. You’re in _ love _!”

Jemma was struck speechless. The pit in her stomach deepened. Was she really in love with Fitz? She did like him as a friend. She thought about how for the past month, she would literally light up whenever she got a message from Fitz. The best part of her day was talking to him, and they talked about everything: work, the TV shows they watch, what they ate for lunch, among other things. If she had anything remotely interesting happen to her she would go straight to him with the story. She even set a different notification ringtone for Fitz’s messages so she would know immediately if he sent a message to her. She was so excited for their dinner date that she could barely sleep the night before. Was it normal to be that excited to eat dinner with a friend? Or had her feelings crossed into the romance territory?

“Holy crap,” Jemma pressed her hand to her mouth as her eyes darted from side to side. “I think I’m in love,”

-

Jemma spent the entire night trying to piece together a message to send to him. She typed into the message box, deleted the message, typed a new one. This became a cycle for twenty minutes. Every time Jemma typed out her message, she would stare at it for so long that her brain learned to hate it. So she cleared the message and created another one that basically said the same thing. _ I like you. Romantically. Can we be romantic partners? It’s fine if you don’t like me back. We can still be friends. I don’t want to make this awkward. I know by saying this I’m already making it awkward between us. But you get what I mean. _

Daisy and Lincoln tried their best to help her, even typed a message for her. But Jemma deleted it, thinking that the message wasn’t “her” enough. Soon enough, both of them gave up and retreated into Daisy’s room for the night. Still, they made it clear that if she needed relationship advice, they would be a door knock away.

Jemma sat on her bed, her thoughts going as fast as they came. Why was she so panicky to send just one message? Was this what it felt like to be in love? Jemma checked the time on her phone. It was 12 am. 2 hours since Fitz walked her home. 1.5 hours since she found out that she might be in love with Fitz. And now she was struggling to type one simple message to tell him that. What was that one song with that one lyric Daisy liked listening to? 

_ Does it ever drive you crazy, just how far the night changes? _Maybe playing this song on loop might help her generate a good enough message.

After another half an hour of brain- racking and listening to the same song on repeat, Jemma finally decided on a message to send Fitz.

“Hey, I think I like you. Romantically. But if you don’t, we can still be friends. I don’t want to make this awkward,” 

Jemma thought about letting Daisy vet through this, but from the lack of sounds next door, it seemed like Daisy fell asleep with Lincoln. And she couldn’t wait till the next morning to send it. So it’s all of nothing. She took a few deep breaths, stared at the message long and hard, and hit send. The swoop of the message sending set it in stone. She officially confessed to Fitz.

-

Jemma woke up to natural sunlight filtering through her curtains. She rolled over to her charging phone and checked the time. 10 am. Was she that exhausted from yesterday? Apparently so. She checked her messages, hoping to see one from a particular someone. Empty. Her heart drooped a little. Was Fitz knocked out by yesterday’s festivities? Jemma remembered that he had a habit of not reading messages till the afternoon on Sundays, so she wasn’t particularly worried. She tied her hair into a bun, slowly got up from her bed and out of her room.

“Good morning, Jemma Bear,” Daisy greeted when she heard Jemma padding out of her room.

“Morning,” Jemma mumbled back. Daisy and Lincoln were watching some cooking competition on TV. She walked over to the kitchen island and found a plate of food.

“We made breakfast for you. But I think it’s gone cold. Throw it away if you don’t want it,” Lincoln remarked as he briefly turned away from the screen to address her. 

Jemma grabbed a fork from the kitchen and dove into her food. It was cold, but at least it was edible. Her stomach was rumbling in hunger. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Daisy and Lincoln were watching Jemma, their attention deviated from the TV.

“So…” Daisy began. “Has he replied to you? I assume you at least sent a message,”

Jemma swivelled around from her seat. “No, he hasn’t. But he has a habit of not reading his messages on Sunday until afternoon, so I’m not too worried. Yet,”

Soon, morning turned to day. Jemma constantly kept her phone close by, clicking it on and off every few minutes. She was feeling anxious, and Daisy tried her best to distract her and calm her down. Going out for lunch and walking around their district barely helped. In a last-ditch attempt, Daisy bought her to Jemma’s favourite pet cafe. The adorable pets there never failed to cheer her up- it was a foolproof plan, right?

Except that Jemma sulked the entire time she was there, something that never happened before. She stared into the distance as dogs and cats of various sizes crossed her, seemingly lost in thought.

“Hello? Earth to Jemma? Are you okay?” Daisy carried a kitten and made a slow circle right in front of Jemma’s face. She snapped out of her thoughts and stared into the kitten’s eyes for a few seconds, then at Daisy.

“Not that great,” Jemma said as she played with the puppy who was chewing on her shoelace. This method of Daisy’s was working, just not as well as it usually did. “I appreciate your efforts though. Thank you,”

“Damn,” Daisy set the kitten down. “He’s really getting to you, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” Maybe she can steal this puppy and let it feel the void in her heart. It just might work.

Daisy groaned. “You’re so lovesick, it hurts for me to see,”

Jemma pressed her lips into a thin line and gave her a meek smile. She was indeed lovesick. And it sucked. She was in a giant slump and she saw everything in a more depressing filter. If lovesickness can be reviewed like some sort of food or restaurant, she might say: 0/10. Very bad. None of the parties involved are going to enjoy it, especially the one who’s lovesick. If given the opportunity, do not ever try this again. 

It sucked. It seriously did.

-

The next morning, no reply. Jemma was starting to think Fitz might have dropped his phone in the bathtub, or maybe his phone coincidentally went kaput? That can’t be it. Jemma checked their chatroom and the message was delivered, meaning his phone was working just fine. So why wasn’t he replying? Did her message stun him so much he couldn’t form words to send a reply back? Or did he immediately feel repulsed by her upon reading her message? As more thoughts grew, she became more unnerved. But what can she do except wait for a reply?

Days went by with no reply from Fitz. In the first few days, Jemma would keep her phone by her side, frantically checking her notifications to see if a particular someone replied. She hoped that a familiar ringtone would emit from her phone. Though she hoped for something, she knew in her heart the notifications would come up empty. Soon enough, she became desperate. She would take any reply from him at that point. Daisy was jumping between being supportive and telling her that Fitz didn’t deserve her, which really confused Jemma.

“You know what, you should move on. What’s he doing? Just making you sad. Men are useless,” Daisy remarked casually one Wednesday night, around one and a half weeks since Jemma sent the message.

“I’m right here?” Lincoln replied, pointing the tater tot he was holding at her.

“Except for you, honey. Although I’m compelled to think you would agree,” 

“Yea,” Lincoln conceded as he popped the tater tot into his mouth. “Men are kinda useless,”

“See,” Daisy swivelled around to face Jemma with a proud smile. “All men are useless. Unless you’re Lincoln. Or Chris Hemsworth. I’ve never met him but I trust him with my life,”

Jemma rolled her eyes. If rolling her eyes could create electricity, she might have created enough electricity in the past two weeks to power the apartment for a good period of time.

“I thought you said,” Jemma switched into an American accent. “‘Don’t lose hope, honey! I _ cannot believe _that I started what could be the best romance in modern history’ a week ago?”

Daisy winced. “I acknowledged that I said that, and I still do think I created the best romance since Romeo and Juliet. But if he doesn’t reply to you soon, move on. Who leaves you on read for two whole weeks anyways?” She flailed her hands for emphasis.

Daisy was right. If Fitz liked her, he wouldn’t have ghosted her like that. Won’t he take her message as an opportunity to confess his feelings as well? Two weeks with no reply definitely means she scared him off right? Jemma thought about texting him again, say something along the lines of “I’m pretty convinced by now that you don’t like me back, and that’s okay! Can I just have my buddy back?” But she felt like it made her sound too needy and desperate. Maybe it would scare Fitz away even more. Who knew that one simple message to a stranger can lead to this mess. This was truly a moral conundrum. She debated on calling her mum for help, which she did.

“Oh darling, he does sound like a lovely man,” the voice of Jemma’s mum crackled through her phone.

“So, do you think I should keep on waiting for a reply?” Jemma asked as she paced around her room. She spent the last 30 minutes recounting the events of the past 4 weeks to her ever-patient mother. At this point, it was Monday on the third week since she sent the message she now learnt to dread.

“Wait till the end of the week. If he doesn’t reply to you, you have to move on. What? Wait. Hang on-” Jemma’s mum broke away from the phone for a few seconds, and Jemma heard a faint voice in the background.

“Your dad says that if you ever bring this man back to our home, he has a lot of explaining to do,”

“Oh, dad,” Jemma chuckled and buried her face in her hand. Always the joker, her father.

“Anyways,” Jemma’s mum cleared her throat. “Wait till the end of the week. If he doesn’t reply or anything, move on, got it? Don’t dwell on him anymore. If you guys are meant to be, then fate has its way. If you guys aren’t, you’ll know,”

“Got it,” Jemma rubbed her temples. _ How would I know what fate wants? _ “Goodbye, mum,”

“Take care of yourself. Love you,” 

“You and dad too. Talk to you soon,”

Jemma tossed her phone onto her bed after she hung up, and she sat on the edge of it. She let her thoughts wander for a while. Her mum was right. _ When Saturday comes, _ she thought to herself _ , I will move on. Delete this number. Delete the texts. Delete anything that reminded me of him. _

But Jemma’s mum was right. Fate had its own way.

-

The days crawled by as Jemma sloughed through the days of the week. Fitz was in her thoughts less and less, replaced by an empty, longing feeling in her heart. Mostly she had been treating this like any other breakup, piling on junk food, spending more time on Netflix than usual and blasting sad songs. Except that there was no breakup to begin with. Who knew you could have a breakup without a relationship? It hurt as much though. Hopefully, she can eat and binge-watch the sorrow away.

Saturday morning rolled around. Jemma felt even more repulsed towards her phone as usual, not even bothering to pick it up and check for notifications when she woke up. 

“Sound the Purge sirens,” Daisy announced when Jemma sauntered out of her room. “It’s the last 24 hours,”

Daisy walked over from the kitchen island to the couch, where Jemma sat herself down and rubbed her sleepy eyes. She cupped Jemma’s face and made her look up at her. Daisy narrowed her eyes and gave her a long, hard look. She had a habit of doing this, and Jemma gave up a long time ago trying to stop her.

“Gosh. You look god awful. We’re gonna have an extra extravagant ladies’ night tonight. We need to make you get over him,” Daisy declared as she gently tapped Jemma’s nose.

“I’m kinda already over him, Daisy,” Jemma muttered as Daisy retreated to the opposite couch. 

A familiar ping rang from Jemma’s room, the ringtone so distant yet familiar. That ringtone only rang if a particular someone sent her a message. Jemma immediately shook awake. She shared a look with Daisy. Could it be…? She sprinted to her room to pick her phone up with Daisy close behind. Her heart was pumping lightning fast; her hands trembled slightly as she yanked the charging cable from her phone, nearly dropping it to the floor in the process. Adrenaline lit her up like a firecracker and her thoughts were a mess. She clicked her phone on with trepidation. There was only one message.

“I’m so sorry for not replying to you for so long. But I think I like you too, Jemma Simmons.”

_Oh, crap._

**Author's Note:**

> phew... never did i ever expect to make an 8k fic in 3 days... but i did it! if you have any feedback, criticism or what not, feel free to let me know. i hope you liked this story!! (shoutout to my beta readers, and everyone who told me you were excited to read this. it both stressed me out and encouraged me at the same time. thanks for letting me find out i'm a maniac who can create such a long story in such a short time.)


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